


From Harlem to Haarlem

by zemenipearls (kaiipaii)



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fade to Black, Fish out of Water, Flirty Jesper Fahey, Fluff, Gratuitous making out, M/M, Partying, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-04-12 11:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19131562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiipaii/pseuds/zemenipearls
Summary: AKA: Jesper spends a summer backpacking and has six kisses with six strangers.Jesper Fahey is done with undergrad and is getting ready for law school. He decides to spend a summer traveling around Europe and exploring cities. He has brief and sometimes wonderful encounters with colorful strangers along the way.





	1. London & Isle of Skye // Inej

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something light hearted and fun, and based heavily on my own travel experiences. Enjoy!

"I'll be fine, Da. Its just a summer."

Colm was hugging Jes tight by the security line at JFK, and he could barely breathe. He had his travel backpack filled up, and he was ready to embark on a journey. After all, he survived undergrad. Barely, but he did. And in the meantime, aced the LSAT. A summer backpacking across Europe was a graduation present from his parents. 

His mother, nearly as tall as Jes, leaned in to kiss his cheek. "You check in with us on WhatsApp," she scolded. 

They couldn't have looked more opposites - Colm with freckled pink skin and faded red hair slowly turning gray, and his mother a tall and ageless black woman with a tightly coiled afro. His father was dressed in slacks and a button up, while she wore a bright yellow summer dress that went down to her ankles. 

"You sure you have everything you need?" Colm asked for the millionth time. 

"Yes. But it's not going to matter if I miss my flight."

They exchanged a final round of 'I love you' before Jes finally pulled away and headed towards security. He spent most of the plane ride trying to find a comfortable position for his long legs, and dozing off. His first stop was London, and would figure it out from there. 

Figuring out the tube was easy, after a lifetime of navigating the New York subway, and he arrived at his hostel tired but in a good mood. He grabbed a free drink chip, threw his bag under the bed, and pulled out his pocket guide of London. There were the typical tourist things to do - crown jewels, Big Ben, check out the Thames, take a photo in a red phone booth. But outside of that, he wasn't too sure. 

He fidgeted in his bunk, unsure what to do first. Explore? Unpack? Sleep? Instead he would start something, just to stop and begin something else. He finally settled on scrolling through his pocket guide, marking the pages as he went. His clothes were half in his backpack, half hanging out.

"You're kind of messy."

Jesper saw a head hanging upside down from above and shrieked, hitting his own against the top bunk. Swearing, he looked back over.

A South Asian girl was grinning, her long braid dangling down. He hadn't even realized someone else was in the room, much less in the bunk above him. 

"And you need a whistle."

"Fine."

She disappeared and a second later, dropped onto the floor. He recoiled, his leg kicked up and ready to go. She cocked her head, a playful grin on her lips. "I'm Inej."

"Jesper. But call me Jes." 

She sat on a stool so quietly, it was startling. They shook hands, and he noticed a dagger tattoo on the inside of her wrist with a rosary wrapped around it. "Nice ink," he said. "That's some gangster shit."

Inej's smile grew bigger. "Thanks. You're a Yank?"

"If you mean American then yes." 

She nodded. “Cool. How long are you here for?”

They exchanged details about themselves - he found out she was from New Zealand but living in Los Angeles. They decided to go down to the bar and order some food and drinks. He cursed under his breath at the heavy fire doors, and exchanged a free drink ticket for a hard cider. She ordered a pint of beer and they found a corner. Even though it was still early, the hostel pub was lively. 

“So what are your plans for today?” Inej asked, peeking at the marked-up travel guide in front of him. “Going to go do all the tourist stuff?”

“Yeah well like you said, I’m a Yank, so I think I’ll go try to find Meghan Markle. But if she’s busy I’ll probably just go throw some eggs at Buckingham Palace.” Inej laughed and Jesper was pleased with himself. “But really I think I’m going to go walk around and maybe see the Tower of London and Crown Jewels.”

“Want some company? After all, someone should take pictures of all this." She motioned at his outfit. And he had to admit, he looked pretty good. Packing light didn't mean he couldn't be stylish, wearing a pair of striped shorts and a bright green tank top. The thin gold chain his mom had given him was around his neck, and it matched the two gold nose rings in his left nostril. His low fade was fresh and curls were popping. 

"As long as you don't steal my phone. Or my heart." He couldn't resist flirting, no matter where he was in the world.

She snickered. "No promises on the second one. I have an ex in Amsterdam who might do the first."

They set off in the city, and he drank in the sights around him. They giggled at the weird names of stops on the tube, and stopped every so often to take pictures. When she climbed up a statue effortlessly at a park, he was impressed. 

"What are you, some sort of acrobat?"

"Close!" She replies, before leaping off. "I'm a stuntperson."

"A what?"

"I do stunts for movies and TV shows. Usually as a double for actresses and kids." She beamed at him. "That's why I live in L.A. but in a couple weeks I'm filming in London so I wanted a vacation."

"That is sick," Jesper responded. "I deadass never met anyone who successfully worked in entertainment. And I live in New York."

"Oh cool, what do you do?"

"I just graduated, and I'm starting law school in the fall. But my part time gig is social media and marketing."

"So you stare at your phone a lot?"

"And sometimes computers."

She laughed and he snapped a picture of her making muscles. She was cute in her crop top and high waisted shorts, and they took selfies as well. He uploaded one of the more glorious pictures of them, adding the hashtags #knuckifyoubuckinghampalace and #wheresmygirlmeghan. 

They found a place for afternoon tea, and he grinned as his pot was filled with hot water. "I don't know what kind of brown you are, but isn't it nice being served tea by all these white Brits?" He said. Inej let out a belly laugh and several heads turned to stare at them. He waved.

"It is pretty nice," she said. "And I'm Gujarati. Indian."

"But you're from New Zealand and live in L.A."

"That's right! I'm a third culture kid."

"You seem a lot less pretentious though." They laughed and he slathered clotted cream on a scone. "My mom's regular schmegular black American, and my dad is from Ireland. I'm actually visiting my grandparents when I'm done here."

"That's pretty cool."

"It really is, since I have an Irish passport too. Made customs a lot easier."

He had only been to Ireland a few times, mostly when he was too young (3, 5) or too moody (15) to enjoy it. He pushed a finger sandwich in his mouth. "This texture is delightful," he mumbled around a mouthful. “Its like a sandwich you lord over poor people.”

Trying to find the Tower of London, he was disappointed when he found out it wasn’t exactly a tower. They made it past the entrance line and he looked up, wrinkling his nose at the lack of height. “Its just some sort of castle-type shit. How is this a tower?” Unfolding his brochure, it seemed like the tallest building was probably the armory, which wasn’t very tall at all.

“I mean, it probably was a tower before,” Inej piped up uselessly. “Back in the old-timey days the buildings weren’t very tall.”

Jesper sucked his teeth. “Stop with your rationality Miss Ghafa, I won’t have it.”

But then he offered his arm to her, and they strutted around the place like a King and Queen, interacting with the various jesters and performers. They took stupid pictures next to shields and swords in the Armory, and were fascinated by the colonial opulence of the Crown Jewels. 

“I know these crowns contributed directly to the oppression of my ancestors,” Inej said on their 3rd walkthrough of the crown room, “But they’re also really shiny.”

“You’re talmbout them crowns,” Jesper replied, “But did you see that giant ass gilded punch bowl that can hold 144 bottles of champagne? My mind has exploded. Champagne showers aren’t the goal anymore. It's a champagne bath.”

They stayed until closing, taking pictures on the wall with a view of Tower Bridge, and decided to get some food and drinks. They ended up at a hole in the wall restaurant eating Thai food and bragging about who could eat the spiciest dishes. 

Back at the hostel they shared photos and added each other on social media, their conversation flying from serious topics to inane. He asked if she knew any celebrities, she asked if NYC was like the movies. They saddled up in a booth together and talked well into the night.

In the morning he decided it was a museum day. Inej was already awake by the time he got up, and used the opportunity to leap down and give him another scare. He was elated when she said she wanted to hang out again that day. 

At the Tate Modern they took absurd photos, and then walked along the Thames, people watching. They stumbled onto gardens along the river banks, listened to jazz musicians, and watched tourists fall prey to the three card monty. 

Inej started texting, her face lighting up. "One of my coworkers got some tickets to a show tonight, wanna go?"

"Depends on the show."

"Oh so it's like that?" But then she showed him the screen. "Only the number one lesbian musical of all time, Wicked."

"I love the number one lesbian musical of all time," he said. "I would be honored."

The sightseeing went on, mostly soaking in the city. He liked London, but it was slightly overwhelming. He knew he wanted to go on the Black History Walk, but he also was thinking about getting out and seeing some of Scotland. He heard the Highlands and Isle of Skye were gorgeous. On the train to West End, he looked up car rentals. 

Inej was peering over his shoulder as best as she could, made interesting by how short she was. "I heard New Yorkers don't drive. You ready to do that here? On the left side?"

"It can't be that bad," he said. "Wanna go to Scotland with me for a couple days?"

"Sure. You going to kidnap and kill me?"

"That's racist," he teased. "Fine. Stay your ass here in London."

"I'm discriminating cause you're from New York. I'm location-ist. Everyone knows New Yorkers can't drive."

He held up a finger. "Don't you sass me."

They playfully teased each other and at the theater, were enraptured by the show. Even if his knees were jammed against the seat in front of him. He had to stop himself from singing along, and smiled whenever Inej grabbed and squeezed his hand or knee. By the end of the show, he was sniffling. 

"The power of female friendship is incredibly compelling," he said as they exited the theater. Walking down the stairs he saw a still full cup of red wine and in a moment of shamelessness, swiped and downed the entire thing. 

At the hostel they made plans to check out for a few days, Jesper finalizing the car rental. 

But in the morning, he realized he'd made a terrible mistake somewhere after the third curb he slammed into. 

"I'm a stunt person and even in scared for my life," Inej said, grabbing the 'oh-shit' handle on the window. Jesper couldn't blame her. Driving on the wrong side of the road was difficult, but at least now they were temporarily out of the city and making their way towards Scotland. 

"Can you put some music on the aux?" Maybe some road trip music would calm his nerves. 

Feet on the dash, Inej hooked up her phone. A moment later, a wailing started.

"Ma'am? Excuse me? What is this?"

"Road trip music. Old country and rock." 

"I can't sing to this. Put on something else."

Queen started blasting from the speakers, and Freddie Mercury's voice carried them across the English border into Scotland. With the windows down, air whipped through their hair and the sky stretched to eternity. It seemed hyperreal. Inej was kicked back next to him, a brilliant smile stretched across her dark brown skin. 

In Edinburgh they tried haggis on tatie scones with brown sauce (delicious), and pizza with brown sauce (disgusting), and walked the Royal Mile before crashing at a hostel overnight and heading up again towards the Isle of Skye. 

Jesper didn't have any hiking shoes with him so he was stuck wearing his chucks and trying to keep up with Inej, who hopped from each fairy spring without any effort. But the view along the hike was insane, and he took pictures to send to his parents later. Where London felt cosmopolitan, Scotland felt wild and the beauty stretched before him.

They found a scenic place to sit down and eat a picnic of meats, fruits, cheeses, and whisky. Jesper felt truly happy. No stress. No worries. Just an incredible view, a great lunch, and a gorgeous girl next to him. 

But he was still surprised when Inej leaned forward to kiss him. She smelled earthy, and he caught a whiff of coconut oil in her hair. She tasted like the smoky scotch they'd been drinking. It was sweet.

Jesper was still a bit dazed when she pulled away. "That was unexpected. I thought you were a lesbian."

"And I thought you were gay. But we've had such a nice time I thought I would try it out." She smiled. "Not disappointing."

"Wanna do it again?" He asked. 

They made out until they got bored, and then lay down on the ground and talked about life. Their parents. Being brown in a white world. And of course, inviting each other to visit. Jesper played with her hand while they talked, rough and calloused from work. While he had enjoyed kissing her, he mostly liked having a new friend that understood him.

When they went back to London, Jesper made the most of his time with Inej seeing the sights and cuddling. They didn't have any aspirations to be a couple - but he knew she would be a great friend for life. She rode the train all the way to Gatwick with him, where he was hopping on a quick plane to Dublin. 

"You better keep in touch," he said. "And if you ever film in New York I expect to be invited on set."


	2. Milan // Matthias

The train ride from MXP to the city center, Jesper glued his eyes to the window, soaking in the Italian suburbs, until Milan spread before him. It was his first stop before he went to Rome, but he was interested in the fashion capital of the world. During his freshman and sophomore years he watched Fashion Week shows while waking up early to study. 

When he arrived at his hostel, it was still too early to check in, and he found a couch to sleep on in the empty basement lounge.

The sound of people woke him up, and Jesper discreetly wiped the drool off with the back of his hand as he sat up. The empty lounge had been transformed into a bustling bar under the hostel, and his dumb ass slept through the entire process. Despite being embarrassed, it seemed no one had even noticed. 

He was finally allowed to check in to his room, where he dumped his things on the bed. He definitely wanted to go window shopping near all the flagship stores, and he heard there was a giant middle finger statue. 

Grabbing his pocket guide, he leapt up and went to the Galleria where he saw Prada and other luxury goods he could never afford. Against his better judgment, he climbed up the stairs to the Milan Cathedral, enjoying a view of the city.

He wandered around as long as he could, impressed by the high quality of vintage and thrift goods he found in random corners of the city. He ignored suspicious looks from shopkeepers, no different than when he was home in New York.

Back at his hostel he grabbed a glass of red wine because that was what you're supposed to do in Italy, and went up to the terrace. 

There were small groups of people but he found an empty table and sat down, enjoying the Italian night air. He felt much more sophisticated than he actually was. It was like he was trying on new lives and personas everywhere he went. 

"Would you like a refill?" A man next to him asked. 

Tall, blonde, and handsome next to him was holding a bottle of red wine. He had long golden hair that touched his shoulders and a broad build. His face was flushed and his skin was surprisingly tanned. He held out a hand and gave him a firm handshake. "Matthias." Then he poured into Jesper's glass.

"Jesper. From New York. Where are you from?" He was quickly learning it was hostel protocol. 

"Joburg. South Africa."

Jesper looked him up and down. Strong brow and straight nose, and bright blue eyes. Not exactly common on the African continent, but he tried to tamper down his prejudices. Maybe he was perfectly nice. And he did give him some more to drink. "Cin cin," he said, raising his glass up.

"What brings you to Milan?" Matthias asked. 

"Seemed like a cool place to stop before I hit up Venice. I like the Italian fashion houses."

"Good choice! Venice is beautiful."

"Figured I should see it before it disappears underwater."

Matthias let out a deep chortle and Jesper grinned. He showed off some of his thrifting finds - some jewelry and sunglasses. Matthias showed him pictures of a train ride he was planning to take in Switzerland. 

Some girls joined their table, and introduced themselves. He didn't remember all their names so he called them by their cities. They shamelessly flirted with Jesper, who was happy to oblige. Matthias was clueless but still a good time, ordering another large bottle to share between them. 

Houston pouted and looked at her phone. "I can't believe I'm missing the finale of the Bachelorette tonight."

"I mean we can have our own bachelorette finale," Jesper said. Dallas and L.A. dissolved into giggles. "We have two men before you, and only one can go on to be America's Next Top Bachelor Reject."

Matthias was confused but went along with it. They shoved an empty wine bottle into Jesper's hand. "You be the Bachelor!"

Dallas stood straight and in her best Chris Harrison impression, lowered her voice. "This is the final rose tonight. New York, have you made your decision?"

Jesper gazed down at the empty bottle and then into the eyes of Matthias (who looked buzzed and stern) and Houston (who was pretending to tear up). "I choose…" he tossed his head to the side, putting a dramatic hand to his brow. "Joburg."

Matthias pumped his fist while Houston sobbed. In true Bachelorette fashion, Jesper offered to walk her out but she declined and let out a dramatic wail, drawing the attention of a group of Ukranians nearby. 

Jesper grasped Matthias's hands and pulled him close. "We're going to be so happy together!" He said. 

And then Matthias dipped him and kissed him.

There were whoops from the girls and Jesper nearly had a heart attack. There was always something nice about being handled consensually by a strong, broad man. But Matthias had come off as a rare zero on the Kinsey scale.

"Wow," Jesper said when Matthias put him on his feet. "Thanks."

"It seemed appropriate," he replied, obviously pleased with himself. "Was it not?"

"Settle down big guy."

They watched the video L.A. recorded of the whole thing, howling with laughter. They chatted well into the night, drinking wine. Everyone but Matthias took a hit from a vape L.A. had with her, that she filled up in Amsterdam. They exchanged phone numbers and made plans to hang out the next day. 

In the morning Jesper was tired but happily texted Inej, who was beginning her stunt work, picking at the hostel breakfast food. Matthias was already awake and alert, which was mildly irritating. Especially since he cut a handsome figure in a white linen shirt and dark jeans. Jesper was trying to blend in as well but his patterned button up was unbuttoned fairly low to show off his chain, and he sported green chinos. 

The girls came down in cute sundresses and they set off. They made a wish on the bull's balls, took pictures next to a giant middle finger in front of the banks. 

Jesper and Matthias decided to check out the Ferrari store, admiring the sleek cars and trying on different caps. He made Matthias take pictures of him next to the Lego Ferrari, most of which ended up unusable. But he appreciated the effort.

"So do you like Trevor Noah?" Jesper asked when they found a gelato place to wait for the girls. "He's pretty cool."

Matthias beamed at him. "Oh we love him. National treasure." 

"It's crazy he's only a little older than me, and his birth was illegal." He couldn't imagine his sickeningly affectionate parents walking on either side of the street. Colm, who sang love songs to his mom while she braided her hair. 

Matthias waved his hand. "That was such a long time ago."

Jesper's hackles raised. "I mean. We were alive when that happened. Y'all are still recovering from apartheid. And clearly your family benefited from it."

"What? I had nothing to do with it."

"I mean," Jesper tried to think how to say it as nice as possible. "You're pretty white. Your family probably kept it that way, cause how do you live in Africa for generations and never mix with the locals?"

"Of course we did. My grandmother was practically raised by a black African."

"You mean an African?" Jesper chuckled but also cringed. "I mean just this year black girls got in trouble for wearing their natural hair in school. In Africa. Where they make black people."

"Well you need to see the board in class. And they segregate the schools anyway, they teach classes in Afrikaans and Xhosa, so they usually pick the Xhosa classes." Matthias shrugged. "Its just different."

Jesper rubbed his temples. "I can't believe I kissed you, good Lord." 

They argued for the better part of a half hour before joining up with the girls, Jesper trying to figure out what Boer crack Matthias was snorting. 

He pushed his wariness down enough to enjoy some more time in Milan, and even gave him a hug and got his snapchat before Jes made his way to the train station where he would explore more of Italy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI that conversation at the end was almost verbatim to one I had, so don't read too much into it


	3. Prague // Nina

Jesper made his way up from Italy, soaking in the old world sights, and decided he needed some fun, so he stepped off his train in Prague. 

Dönner was now his go-to cheap meal with a can of cola, and he juggled his food and backpack as he went to his new hostel. The atmosphere felt dingy and dirty - complete opposite of Italy. But he liked the vibe, and he knew it was going to be a party town. After all, the Czech Republic drank more beer per capita than any other nation.

The hostel (which had a beer pong champions list on the chalkboard) welcomed him in with a beer, a key, and a list of all the hostel events. Jesper had definitely come to the right place. He would still go and see some of the sights, but he needed some good old-fashioned debauchery after all the class and wine in Italy.

The next afternoon, Jesper rolled out of his uncomfortable hostel bed and met the tour group. They were going to the famous bone church, the Sedlec Ossuary. 

Their small tour bus picked others up at a different hostel, and a girl sat next to him. “Sorry,” she said as she sat. “I must make room for my magnificent hips.”

“They are quite magnificent,” Jesper replied. 

She tossed her head back in a laugh, moving her hair behind her shoulder. She had an Eastern European cast to her features. She wore a pair of high-waisted jeans and a tank top. Jesper couldn’t help but glance at her chest, which was barely contained in the shirt. 

Catching his eyes, she laughed again. “Don’t worry, I have a scarf to wrap around so they let me in. But it is summertime and even in Czechia it is warm.” She extended a hand to him. “I’m Nina.”

“Jesper.”

He learned that she was from Russia, but pretty sure she was born somewhere in the Soviet Block. They asked each other about American and Russian stereotypes, and conspired about the nature of Putin and Trump’s relationship before dissolving into Michelle Obama’s fashion sense. 

When they arrived at the church, Nina let out a dramatic sigh and wrapped the scarf around her shoulders, tying a knot. “I look like a frumpy old woman with no style. Michelle Obama would be disappointed in me.”

Inside the ossuary, Jesper was wide-eyed. The bones in combination with Catholicism was a bit strange. After all, his father was a good Catholic boy and his mother was a spiritual but ultimately nonreligious person. He took a 2 Euro coin out of his pocket and left an offering, figuring he should be better safe than sorry.

“I really like this place,” Nina whispered to him conspiratorially. “I am studying to be a coroner.”

“For real? I thought most coroners were like. Creepy goth girls.”

“I could be a creepy goth girl.”

“That’s true. I don’t know anything about you.”

“Then we should fix that. What are you doing tonight?”

“I was planning on getting drunk on cheap Czech Pilsner.”

“There is a club that is five stories, do you want to come out with me and my friends?”

Jesper grinned at Nina. She was framed by the bones all around them. “That sounds perfect.”

Ultimately, he wasn’t prepared to party with hot Russian girls. Jesper showed up to their AirBnB around 10:30PM in a button up, chinos, and the only pair of boots he brought. Unsure of how friendly Prague was, he kept his party makeup to a minimum, but he did sport his jewelry. His shirt was unbuttoned fairly low, figuring the world needed to be blessed by his sun-kissed brown skin.

Nina, meanwhile, had on a scandalously small pair of high waisted shorts and a crop top. Her friends were dressed similarly, and looked a lot less friendly. One was a beautiful redhead with a bedazzled eye patch, and the other a stunning South Asian woman. 

When they left the building, Jesper could feel the jealousy from every man that they passed, and he grinned. There was something really powerful about being in the presence of gorgeous, powerful women. When a man tried to stop them, the south Asian one (Zoya, he learned), pulled a knife out and threatened him in violent-sounding Russian.

“She said she would cut his balls off and shove them down his throat,” Nina whispered in his ear.

“A bit of a dominatrix, isn’t she?” he whispered back. “I just realized this is basically the plot of the movie hostel. Are you three going to sell me to some weird murderers who will torture me for fun?”

“Not unless you want us to.”

“Please don’t.”

“Then we’ll just dance!”

And dance they did. Mostly Genya, Jesper, and Nina. He soaked up the envy of people around him, laughing whenever a man was scared off by Zoya’s icy glare. The europop and beer kept him floating, and he danced scandalously between the two women. He let loose, enjoying the experience in another country, another language. 

Each floor had a different DJ and a different theme, so they walked between them. The second had trap and hip-hop. The third had bathrooms, EDM, and a smoking area. “I’ve never seen a deejay while taking a piss,” he shouted over the throbbing beats. The urinals were out in the open with a wall, and porta-potty like stalls on either side of the sinks. There was a small dance floor nearby, but they went to the smoking area where Genya and Zoya lit up.

When the girls were done, they wandered to the fourth floor (chill trance) and the fifth floor (top 40), making sure to drop their asses on each one. They went between dance floors and smoke breaks, Jesper getting progressively more trashed on each one.

Genya and Zoya went off to have another smoke break (Jesper had figured out smoking was a lot more common in Europe), he went with Nina to the chill floor to relax and hopefully become less sweaty.

“I haven’t partied this hard in awhile,” he laughed. According to his phone it was 4:30 in the morning. “Y’all are fun. Even Zoya. Does she know she can’t dance?”

Nina waved her hand. “When you’re that beautiful, you don’t have to know how to dance.”

“Point taken.”

“You know Jesper, you are very beautiful too. Your eyes are captivating.”

“Got them from my dad.” It was a little annoying sometimes - people liked the whitest feature about him. Gray eyes. But he had his mom’s nose, lips, and cheekbones. And quite a bit of her coloring. Then again, Nina was from Russia. She didn’t understand the politics of antiblackness, probably. 

But his thoughts were momentarily paused when Nina decided to straddle him on the chair, and planted a kiss on him. She was more aggressive than he was used to. He chalked that up to her Russian-ness. Or her personality. But it was nice - even if her lips were small they had a nice shape, and it was fun making out with a femme almost as tall as he was. 

“Ugh, Nina,” came a voice. They looked up to see Zoya, tapping a stiletto on the ground. “You are not abandoning us this time to take another person home.”

“But he is hot and you are mean,” Nina shot back. They began to argue in Russian like he wasn’t there, pinned under Nina’s thighs. He waited out their argument in relative comfort until they seemed to reach a conclusion. She turned to him “You will come home with us, but first we will party for another hour.”


	4. Berlin // Wylan

Jesper barely contained a groan. He _thought_ he had woken up early enough, grabbed his free breakfast, and walked to Museum Island early enough but instead he was stuck in line at the Pergamon. His friends back home were still sleeping so he couldn't text anyone. He snapped some pictures as he waited, sending them to his parents. 

In front of him was a short boy around his age, with strawberry blonde hair. He kept looking back towards the coffee stand, worrying at his lips. Jesper finally rolled his eyes. "Sprechst du Englisch?" He asked. 

"Better than you can speak German," he responded. 

"Ouch. Now I don't want to hold your spot while you get coffee."

The boy turned red under his freckles and Jesper fought to keep his face serious. "OH I'm so sorry I thought you were going to ask me something weird, please. I can get you one too."

"It's okay," Jesper responded. "Can you get me a water?"

“Thank you so much,” he said, and then dashed away. Jesper amused himself playing games on his phone. In no time at all, he was back, handing Jesper a bottle of water. “I thought if I woke up early, there wouldn’t be a line.”

“That’s what I thought, and apparently everyone else.” Jesper grinned. “My name is Jesper.”

“Wylan.” They shook hands. “Where are you from?”

“New York. The States.”

“Welcome to Berlin,” Wylan piped up. “I live in Salzburg but I’m from Rotterdam.”

“Oh yeah? You studying?” Jesper asked. Wylan seemed a bit nervous looking at his face, so Jesper made sure not to break eye contact. To make him squirm a bit more. He turned on the charm he inherited from his parents, breaking out a big smile and taking a tiny step forward to get closer.

Wylan stammered a bit. “Y-yes. Flute. I play the flute.”

“So you got some good fingers do you?” 

“Yes,” Wylan practically squeaked. Oh this was going to be a good time. “I-I’m pretty good.”

“I believe it.” But then, taking pity on him, switched up the subject. “What are you trying to see here?”

They chatted about art the entire way inside. Jesper found him incredibly charming, with angular lips and loose curls. His blue eyes lit up when he talked about his favorite artists. While Jesper was dressed in bright colors as usual, Wylan looked very European in blues and black pants. “Mind if I tag along with you?” Jesper asked.

Wylan’s face lit up. “Please.”

Jesper was impressed with all of the giant walls in the Pergammon, which he supposed was the point. He particularly enjoyed the Islamic art section as well. They helped each other take pictures in front of statues, Jesper sneaking some candids of Wylan looking up at the art.

“Wanna hang out some more?” Jesper asked hopefully. “I can add you on WhatsApp.”

“That would be nice,” Wylan said, and they did. They grabbed lunch at an Indian restaurant in Kreuzberg, before walking along the street looking for vintage and thrift finds. Jesper bought some new rings, Wylan browsed the sheet music readily available.

“I have to head back to my hostel for a pub crawl,” Jesper finally said. “I’m in town a few more days though, can I hit you up?”

Wylan nodded. “I had a lot of fun today Jesper.” He bit his lip like he was going to say more, but then deflated. “I’ll text you.”

Jesper nodded. “See you later.”

Jesper enjoyed his night out in Berlin. He shook his ass and downed shots, trying to hold his own against the Australians. But nobody could hold their own against the Australians, and he partied with strangers until 3 in the morning, when he finally tired out and took a cab.

He woke up to the sound of his phone vibrating. It took a moment to realize it was texts from Wylan.

_Hi Jesper. Had fun yesterday. Want to hang out again?_

_Found a cool Turkish market happening today. I mean, if you don’t have other plans. And if you want to. No worries haha. Thought it sounded cool._

_Just realized I said ‘cool’ twice in that last text. Sorry._

_Sorry for spamming! Promise I’m not usually like this. >.< _

Jesper chuckled and turned onto his back, dropping his cell phone on his face before responding.

_Hungover. Wanna meet at Brandenburg gates at 11?_

He managed to roll out of bed and get ready, stopping at a bakery to get coffee and breakfast. Wylan was already there and waiting for him outside of the American embassy. There were loads of tourists milling about taking pictures, walking tours competing for attention, and some crazy preacher-types holding signs.

Wylan pointed at one man who was being particularly loud. “He’s going to be arrested. He’s being antisemitic.”

Sure enough, Jesper watched as two police officers took the man aside. He was impressed at the action - the opposite of back home, where he had been stopped and frisked five times in the last few years simply for existing. They took some selfies by the gate before beginning their journey around the city. 

Wylan was incredibly smart, Jesper discovered. He had niche interests and knew a lot about them. Especially music and chemistry. They walked past the gates and saw the Roma and Jewish memorials, and then the Musikinstrument museum. Jesper watched Wylan’s face as they wandered the eerily quiet space, looking at violins and violas and harpsichords and all manner of old-timey instruments. They saw a cane that was a playable violin, and gorgeous fortepianos in teal.

Jesper could see his fingers twitching to touch them, especially when they looked at the old flutes. “You should show me a video of you playing sometime,” Jesper said. “I’d like to hear.”

Wylan looked up in surprise, and then he blushed. “Okay.”

They went to the Turkish market next - they grabbed cheese, meat, and fruit, deciding to make a picnic out of everything. Jesper washed it down with a beer, while Wylan sipped on a radler. When they finished eating, they looked at souvenirs. Wylan kept on “accidentally” bumping into Jesper, even though it wasn’t too crowded. 

After the Market they went to the Schwul Museum, or the gay museum. Jesper nearly screamed when he found out they had a Dandy exhibit that focused on black dandies in Africa. They strut down the catwalk in the middle of the museum, complete with costumes they could try on. Jesper was in his element, and was surprised at how gender and trans-inclusive the museum was. He spent a ridiculous amount of money on their souvenirs and their pin machine.

Wylan was a bit shy but he did notice the curiosity, and the way he looked at Jesper. At the front counter, Jesper asked about any shows going on they should know about.

Getting the name of a drag venue, Jesper felt accomplished. 

“Wanna be my date tonight?” Jesper asked. 

Wylan blanched. “Like… go with you to a show type date?”

Jesper wobbled his head. “Like… take you out to dinner and then go to a show because I like boys type of date.”

“Oh.” Wylan had a shy smile on his face. “I like boys too.”

The drag show ended up being at The Club. Jesper found it amusing, Wylan thought it was infuriating. “What kind of name is that?!” he exclaimed. “Terrible. If you ask your friends where to meet, its a bad answer.”

“You just say you’ll meet at The Club.”

“Which one?”

“The club,” Jesper replied, chuckling. But they went into the small building. It was cozy and divey, different from the spaces Jesper normally frequented. But they managed to find two stools against the wall to sit on. They were close together, and Jesper put an arm around Wylan casually. The Dutch boy fit perfectly against him and they stayed there until Jesper got distracted by the floor.

“Well look what we have here,” Jesper laughed. Reaching down, he picked a roach joint off the floor. It had just enough left he was surprised it got thrown out. “Party time.”

“You’re going to smoke that?” Wylan gasped. “But you have no idea who -”

Jesper had already lit it up with a lighter and breathed in. It was laced with tobacco but overall pretty good. The smell of cigarettes inside covered up the acrid marijuana, and the two of them cuddled up more when the drag queen came on stage. It was a fabulous show, and Jesper stood up several times to snap, cheering her on. Even Wylan got into it, bouncing up and down in his seat and clapping excitedly.

With the show over, it became a queer bar, and they moved into a booth instead. Jesper was about to ask a question when Wylan leaned forward and gave him a chaste peck on the lips.

“Sorry,” he squeaked. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Jesper responded by cupping a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him in for a deeper kiss. He could feel the insecurity in Wylan - he probably didn’t usually go around kissing strangers in public bars. But they were on holiday and things happened. It was wonderful.

They went back to the apartment Wylan was staying in, and stayed up all night making out and talking. Jesper didn’t know what everything held - after all, Salzburg and New York were 4100 miles apart. But Wylan was something special. But he spent the rest of his time in Berlin with Wylan until it was time to go, and they both sniffed. 

“Come to New York sometime,” Jesper said. “And stay in touch.”


	5. Amsterdam // Kaz

Jesper was worn out by the time he went to Amsterdam. He decided the best thing to do would be buying some weed, chilling out, and maybe going to a couple of museums if he had the energy. He bought the flower, rolling paper, and filter. Even an extrovert like him needed some time to sit in the smoke room with a huge bag of fries and get high. The best part about the Netherlands was that because the population was so tall, all the urinals and showers were pretty tall too.

He eventually made his way out to the Van Gogh, Red Light, and Marijuana museums. Then he decided to go on a walking tour of the red light district that night. The women in the windows were beautiful, even if they weren’t all his type, but he became uncomfortable by the sheer objectification. Especially when he saw the “black” block, that had his sisters in them. 

He ended up finding a bench and sitting on it, watching the people as they went by. He discreetly took a hit every so often, enjoying the thrill of debauchery he never could in New York. Being black in Europe wasn’t great either, but being a black American? That was considered ‘cool’, at least at the moment. 

Still wallowing in his feelings from Berlin, Jesper was entertaining the idea of a hookup, and started swiping on Tinder. It was a wild card - some locals and tourists as well. Lots of goodlooking people, and he swiped mainly based on the picture.

He got a couple fetish-y messages back and immediately blocked those, and a few decent messages he actually responded to.

In the morning he ate breakfast and sat on the hostel porch, enjoying the sun and responding to messages. One seemed pretty promising. Not his normal type - he was a white guy with severe features and not a single smiling picture. But there was something compelling about him.

Jesper finished a sobering experience at the Anne Frank house and was wandering around the city when his phone dinged. Tinder guy wanted to meet up. He wasn’t a riveting conversationalist, but Jesper wasn’t sure he wanted to talk anyway. He already had some pretty meaningful connections, with Inej and Wylan. Hell, even Nina was still hitting him up and sending him memes.

They agreed to meet up at a coffee shop that night. Jesper was feeling pretty lazy and bought a sweatshirt to wear, pairing it with shorts and the worn-out chucks. It was easy to spot his date - even among all the pale severe-looking dudes hanging out in Amsterdam. He was sort of tall, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a dark suit. The lack of color made Jesper’s heart hurt.

He was also noticeable because he used a cane and clearly had some sort of disability, but that never stopped Jesper from having a good time. 

“Nice to meet you Kaz,” Jesper said with a grin. He had already rolled a joint and it was tucked behind his ear. ‘Coffee shops’ were something completely different in Amsterdam. 

“Jesper,” Kaz said. He was oddly formal, in a crisp button up shirt, blazer, and pants. And gloves. That was pretty weird. Suddenly Jesper felt very underdressed and casual, although there was _no_ way that edgy outfit wasn’t sweltering hot. And his hair looked stiff enough to build a bird’s nest on top. It was so different from the boys at home in Harlem - carefree, big smiles, effortless style. Kaz was manicured to perfection. 

“Thanks for meeting me tonight, man,” he said. “This city is pretty cool.”

“It has all sorts of dark corners for fun,” Kaz responded with the barest hint of a smile. “If you’re interested.”

“Depends on the fun.” Jesper always loved the thrill of flirting. Even with strange Dutch dudes. 

“There’s a place called De Kraai if you wanna get out of here,” he said. “Good music.” He glanced behind Jesper’s ear. “And probably better drugs.”

“I’m good man,” Jesper said. Uppers didn’t work well with him - his already erratic tendencies became worse. “But I don’t mind music.”

Jesper let Kaz set the pace when they walked out, trying not to let his own awkwardness show. He became aware of how physically inaccessible the city was, and most of Europe. They meandered pass the red light district, Jesper trying to avert his eyes out of respect for them. 

“You don’t like prostitutes?” Kaz asked casually.

“Well, sex workers. And its not that. But between the human trafficking and all these tourists gawking but not giving them money, just seems kind of rude.”

Kaz nodded and then he saw the building. Nestle away in an alley, it had a bird on the sign and DE KRAAI in blocky letters. “I’m gonna guess it means crow?” Jesper mused. Kaz had been mostly silent along the walk, and Jesper didn’t mind. It also affirmed the fact that maybe they were just going to hook up and get straight to the point. Which he didn’t mind. That’s why he had some condoms in his bag.

“Oh he’s smart, too.” Kaz said.

“And what else? Devilishly handsome? Tall? Funny as fuck?”

“Sure.”

He stuck his tongue out playfully at Kaz, only becoming weirded out when Kaz unlocked the door for him. “Is this your place?”

“It is.”

Jesper had to admit he was impressed. There was a bar, lounge area, and smoke room. He chilled on a barstool as Kaz opened the place up, workers and guests trickling in. He smoked and watched the way Kaz moved, purposefully and with power. It was kinda hot when you got over the awful moodiness. 

Eventually the two of them sat in a booth, Jesper high enough to be enjoying the atmosphere, even if it was the weirdest non-date he’d ever been on. 

He caught Kaz staring at him and smiled. It was an intense gaze and made Jesper self-conscious. Kaz leaned in, the air magnetizing between them. His lips were parted and they were so close, they breathed the same air. Jesper felt like flying when their lips finally touched. An agonizingly slow kiss, and Kaz was holding all the control. Jesper hated it. Jesper loved it.

He felt a gloved hand on the back of his neck, fingers digging almost painfully on the base. Jesper kept himself from deepening the kiss, determined not to be some whimpering maiden just because a Dutch boy liked to be in control.

A commotion started in a corner and Kaz suddenly sat back, looking over. “Be right back,” he said calmly, as if nothing had even happened.

“Alright.” Jesper sulked back against the booth, feeling a little salty.

That’s when he realized he had been robbed.

About fifty euros was missing from his bag, but that wasn’t what made him angry. His gold chain was gone - the one his mother had gotten for him. Anger flooded every fiber of his being and he stood up, looking for that shitty-ass haircut. 

There were some stairs to the side and he made a beeline, ignoring the shouts of security guards. He looked in each door until he found the office, where Kaz was writing in a notebook.

“You fucking bastard!” Jesper yelled. “Keep the cash but give me the goddamn chain back.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I might be a bisexual mess but I’m from Harlem,” Jesper threatened. He picked up an umbrella by the door. “And you’re going to give it back to me.”

“Or what? You’re going to hit me with an umbrella?”

Jesper marched over and punched him.

There was nothing he hated more than his feelings being toyed with. And there was no one he loved more than his mother. Being given a chain was like a rite of passage for black boys and he wasn’t going to let some cracker with fast fingers take that from him.

For his part, Kaz looked momentarily surprised. And then punched him back.

Fighting was always awkward, but Jesper had a mean left hook and managed to keep up with Kaz, who was surprisingly fast on his uneven feet. It made Jesper feel a little bit better about the fact he tackled a disabled man to the ground and punched him in the nose. “Give it to me!” he yelled, hoping the way he phrased it kept the security out. “You’re fucking with a New York nigga now, and you’re gonna give me back my chain.”

Kaz let out a bloody chuckle. “Shouldn’t wear gold in these streets.”

“Like I care. Where is it.”

Kaz tried to get Jesper off of him, but it was useless. Finally he relaxed. “Fine. Top drawer.”

Jesper stood up and kicked his ribs before going over to the desk. There the chain was. He put it back on, feeling vindicated. Kaz wiped blood off of his face. “I can respect that. Most people don’t notice until its too late.”

“Fuck you,” Jesper said, and made his way back to his hostel, fuming. “Go mess with someone else.”

He wanted to call his mom to cry and commiserate, but knew she would freak out. Instead he cleaned up the couple cuts on his face, and texted Inej what happened. She immediately called him back.

“Oh my god Jesper are you okay? I’m going to kill him.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “But its just some rando.”

“No, that’s my ex. I’m going to fly to Amsterdam and I’m going to kill him.”

“Wait. What?”

Inej filled him in on the details. It was an insanely small world. “No more white boys,” he moaned. “Two of the last three have been crazy.”

“Oh so there’s one?”

“One singular decent one. Really liked him. Too bad he’s in Austria.”

“That’s too bad.”

They caught up on simpler things - he asked how filming was going, and what death-defying stunts she was up to now. The conversation managed to relax him, but for the rest of his time in Amsterdam he kept his chain under his shirt.


	6. Paris & Barcelona // Kuwei

When Jesper stepped off the overnight bus in Paris, he saw a rat running across the parking lot. And he decided to take a taxi to his hostel. 

"Gahtdamn Remy Ratatouille-ass New York-ass rodent," he muttered to himself when he walked to the taxi stand. He read a lot about ‘Paris Syndrome’ - where people were let down by Paris and become depressed. So his expectations were modest. He only had a couple weeks left before he needed to be back in Dublin for his grandpa’s birthday, and a flight home. The first visit had been short and sweet.

Jesper was surprised at how well he fit in. There were a good number of black people, similar to London and Berlin. And they all looked so _cool_ , like they were attending Afropunk. For his first day he decided to take the Hop-On Hop-Off bus, listening to the narration of different Parisian sites. He snapped pictures, and his parents texted about how much they loved Paris themselves in the 90s.

He ate at little bistros for the French experience, but discovered that the French put too many sauces on _everything_. After that he spent a lot of time at patisseries and “””ethnic””” food places. His time in Berlin taught him to appreciate street food. 

Jesper made his way to the Garnier Opera House. He spent many all nighters his freshman and sophomore year with Phantom of the Opera playing in the background, and he had to see the inspiration. 

He was shown to an English speaking tour, and stood next to the other millenial-looking guy there. Another tour guide walked up to him, bowing and speaking what was presumably Cantonese or Mandarin based on the Chinese flag pin.

"Oh that's nice but this is my tour," he replied. "I'm American."

Jesper couldn't help the squawk of a laugh he let out. The tour guide, embarrassed, ran away. 

"Yo man that was the funniest shit I've seen in a minute," Jesper said. "Where you from?"

"Born and raised in San Francisco. You?" He had kind honey brown eyes and dark hair artfully brushed across his forehead. His lips were full even if his mouth was narrow, and were turned into a grin. "I'm Kuwei."

"Jesper," he responded. "New York."

"Yeah I think I've heard of that place," Kuwei joked. Jesper instantly liked him. They teamed up for the rest of the tour, learning about the various deaths and fire hazards that occurred in the Opera house, and the controversial painting around the Chandelier. 

"That painting is hideous," Kuwei said.

"I've seen worse."

"Are you a Kindengarten teacher?"

"Aspiring lawyer, actually."

"Apologies, your honor."

Jesper stuck out his tongue. But they stuck by each other and took pictures. Kuwei seemed to have an appreciation for social media like he did, requesting angles and posing like a star. The gilded splendor of the Opera house made it easy. 

"You really know what you're doing," Kuwei said as he swiped through the photos. "And here I thought lawyers were corporate shills or unattractive out of touch dinosaurs."

"So what I'm hearing is you think I'm attractive."

"Maybe a little."

They smiled at each other. Kuwei was shorter than he usually went for, but made up for it with style and sass. He had slim black jeans with gray boots, and a graphic t-shirt. His messenger bag was full of pins and patches, a far cry from the sparkly gold fanny pack over Jesper's shoulder. 

Jesper went with Kuwei to lunch, and then they planned on meeting up at the Seine that night. Kuwei said he needed to get some work done. 

He spent the rest of the day being lazy - he checked out the Eiffel tower, and people watched while he ate overpriced gelato. 

When he met Kuwei in the evening, the sun was beginning it a purple pink descent over the City of Lights, and he peered at the paper bag that Kuwei was holding.

"I wanted to wine and dine you," he confessed. "So I got some wine, macaroons, and bread. Considered some snails and frog legs."

Jesper was touched. Being a queer black man meant people expected him to do all the work. Asking out, financing, flirting, being thoughtful. Even in his sex life. But not this little San Franciscan. "Thanks for passing on the amphibian appendages."

They found a spot along the Seine and dangled their legs over the side, salsa music in the air. There was some party down the away, and they waved at the tourists on the river boats. 

Being in their mid 20s, they talked about school and work. 

"Undergrad took me six years," Jesper confessed. He didn't know why it felt so bad to say out loud, but Kuwei didn't seem too judgey. "I couldn't focus for shit and fell into some bad habits. Had to take time off. Figured out some good medication. But I ended up graduating with honors and got into Columbia Law. Worked out well, and I like my part time job."

"You shouldn't feel bad. My dad is an esteemed physics professor at Stanford. I tried to follow him into science. I was the kid genius and Chinese and, well. You know how it goes." Jesper could only imagine the pressure. "When I told him I was dropping out and pursuing graphic design he nearly had a heart attack."

Jesper nodded. His own parents had been supportive but firm. He lived with them, and went to rehab for a semester. And he spent every day since trying to make up for the stress he caused them.

"I know about pressure. My moms sat me down and said I couldn't afford to fuck up cause I'm black and I have to work twice as hard for half as much. My dad didn't get it for a long while. He's white and from Ireland, but then one day I ran errands and the police stopped and accused me of breaking into his store." Jesper frowned. "People wait for me to mess up and I hate that I did." He let out an awkward watery laugh. "Why am I saying this?"

"I can't imagine that. I'm put on a pedestal of expectations. People think I'm an immigrant all the time and super smart and I'm a dumbass millenial like everyone else. My parents were born in America too." 

"White supremacy is a hell of a drug."

They moved to lighter topics, drinking the sweet wine straight from the bottle. Kuwei showed him some websites he designed, many of them for advocacy groups and nonprofits. They ranged from racial equity to immigration attorneys, all spectacularly arranged. 

"Wow. You're super fucking good."

Kuwei stared at him and there was an electricity between them. With the river and bustle as their background, Kuwei leaned in and kissed him. 

The way Kuwei kissed made Jesper feel wanted and above all, _seen_. It wasn't some drunken fancy, curiosity, or means to manipulate him. And Kuwei wasn't as innocent as Wylan, from the way he pulled Jesper closer to deepen it. Letting someone else take the lead was thrilling and sent heat flaring into every part of his body. 

When they parted, his heart hammered in his chest, and he let his hand linger on Kuwei's thigh. "You're really beautiful," he said quietly. And Jesper believed him. People never called him beautiful. 

Jesper leaned back, staring at the sky. Kuwei put a head on his shoulder. They stayed like that for awhile until wandering over to the Eiffel tower, where there was a spectacular sparkling light show. He didn't fight it when Kuwei held his hand. 

He was still fine with his decision when he woke up in an unfamiliar bed that morning. The Airbnb was old but full of light. And it definitely wasn't his. Throwing his underwear on, he wandered to the kitchen where toast was burning. 

"So I was going to make us breakfast and burnt everything, so a delivery will be coming soon."

Jesper was charmed. He remembered how Wylan made him breakfast too - a delicious assortment of cold cuts, cheese, jams, bread, and eggs. He said it was typical in Austria. 

But in Paris they went to the balcony of the Airbnb and ate the delivery. There were all sorts of baked goods, all flaky perfection. 

"So I know this is super forward," Kuwei started. "But I'm headed to Barcelona tomorrow. Do you want to go with me?"

Jesper smiled. "Yeah I've been wanting to go there, before I head back to Dublin."

"I thought you lived in New York?"

"My dad's folks live there and gramps is turning 70 so I'm going to his birthday party before I go home." Jesper cleared his throat. "By the way I can Venmo you for some of this stuff."

Kuwei waved his hand. "Its nothing to me. I do some corporate and start up websites too and upcharge those assholes."

They went to Versailles and took pictures by the golden gates and biked around the grounds. Then they purchased their train tickets to Barcelona, a generous five hour ride through the countryside. 

Instead of staying at the apartment, Jesper went back to the hostel in order to pack and check out, texting his parents some pictures and updating them on the itinerary.

Jesper knew he loved Barcelona the moment he stepped into the balmy streets. The palm trees, the Mediterranean air, and the narrow alleys all made him happy. Their Airbnb was nestled in the Gothic quarter, with a balcony and close to everything. 

The days and nights were a blur of activity. They wandered, stopping in the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi Park, and the Mercado. They saw Camp Nou and got lost taking the train to Castelldefells beach, ending up halfway to France before doubling back. But the warm sandy water was perfect for floating, and Jesper became a beautiful deep brown. 

At night they partied at Nasty Monday, getting to the club at 1AM and leaving around 5 with the locals and getting breakfast. They shared tapas and drank sangria outside before going to a flamenco show. Kuwei was a surprisingly easy lover and friend, especially with their shared experiences. 

But their time together eventually ended and Jesper was sad. Barcelona had been an incredible week and a half, and an easy going end to his trip. 

"If you're in Cali, hit me up," Kuwei told him, holding his hand at the airport. "West coast best coast."

"Same if you're in New York," Jesper replied. "I really enjoyed my time with you."

They shared a passionate kiss, Kuwei on his tip toes and Jesper bending down. He would always remember this city and the moments inside it. There was a lot unsaid between him and Kuwei but there was a lot unsaid with others too. With Wylan, who was probably back in Salzburg. With Inej, and Nina. Even Matthias and Kaz, both of whom he'd be fine punching and yelling at.

But he waved goodbye and boarded his plane to Dublin.


End file.
